


Too far

by chaos_monkey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Force Choking (Star Wars), Forced Orgasm, Graphic Rape, Humiliation, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Non-Consensual Rough Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, unwanted arousal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey
Summary: Thrawn pushes Vader’s patience a little too far.
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Darth Vader
Comments: 22
Kudos: 71





	Too far

**Author's Note:**

> **Final content warning: this fic is a graphic description of rape, from both perspectives.**
> 
> (Big big thank you’s go to Revakah and wantonwhale for the immensely helpful beta reads and feedback; and to jewelliffer, punk-kenobi, and ZsforSs for bouncing ideas around with me as well as correcting my error-ridden canon knowledge)

“You go _too far._ ”

Even before the invisible pressure closed around his throat, Thrawn knew he really had. He was usually much more careful around Vader, but this time… 

This time, he had miscalculated. 

Badly. 

The room grew strangely darker as Vader stalked towards him, heavy footsteps loud on the durasteel floor and the ominous, rhythmic hiss of his mechanical breathing filling the air. The Dark Lord seemed to loom taller as he drew nearer, his black cape swirling and one gloved hand raised towards Thrawn. 

Thrawn choked as the unseen grip tightened further around his neck. Clenching his jaw, struggling to remain calm with his heart thumping in his ears and his vision starting to flash with faint black and white spots, he barely managed to restrain himself from reaching up to yank at his collar by gripping his own wrists tightly behind his back. He could _not_ show weakness. Not now. With the mood Vader was in, even the Emperor’s favour might not be enough to protect him from the Dark Lord’s infamous tendency to cull those he saw as… undeserving of continued service to the Empire. 

“It is past time you were taught a lesson, _Grand Admiral_ Thrawn,” Vader finally said, coming to a stop in front of Thrawn. His deep, echoing voice was eerily steady; his posture and distorted tone entirely unreadable, his armour masking even his heat signature. 

Thrawn met the empty black gaze of Vader’s mask straight on. The invisible grip on his neck was just tight enough to choke off his ability to speak, while still allowing him to draw harsh, laboured breaths. He made no effort to answer, however, remaining stubbornly silent save for the unavoidable rasping of his breathing. Vader was presumably waiting for him to try and gasp out a strangled apology, to attempt, futilely, to plead for his life; and Thrawn had no intention of playing that game with him. 

Vader regarded Thrawn in silence for a moment. He eased off his Force hold on the grand admiral’s throat slightly; but still, Thrawn refused to speak. The Chiss had even kept his hands clasped behind his back, not clawing uselessly, panicked, at his collar the way most did. His resilience was admittedly impressive, though it was no doubt fueled by the unfortunately accurate assumption that even Vader dared not risk the Emperor’s displeasure by killing his pet alien. Yet. 

But perhaps there was another way to inspire fear in him. 

“I preferred you the way you were on Batuu,” Vader finally said, after watching Thrawn struggle for breath for a few moments longer. Reaching out again with the Force, he pinned Thrawn’s wrists to his own back. “Immobilized. Bent over. Completely at. My. _Mercy._ ” 

A new pressure was added to the one already around Thrawn’s throat as Vader spoke; this one against his back. He fought it, silently; but couldn’t stop Vader from bending him slowly, inexorably over until he was staring down at the floor, hands pinned uselessly behind him and the grip around his neck tightening slightly once more. As if to remind him it was there. 

His pulse beginning to throb in his temples again, all Thrawn could see was the floor, Vader’s boots, and the swirling black cape as Vader walked slowly and deliberately around to stand— immediately behind him. 

“Just as appealing as I recall,” Vader said, a hint of malicious amusement in his tone. 

Jerking in surprise against his invisible bonds, Thrawn stiffened as a hand— a real hand, this time; not the touch of Vader’s power— caressed his ass lightly before abruptly squeezing it instead, _hard._ Hard enough to hurt. Flushing, Thrawn barely managed to bite down on his gasp, skin suddenly prickling with a confusing mix of anger and humiliation as his body responded to the touch in an entirely unexpected, and entirely unwanted, manner. 

Vader paused. For the first time ever, he _felt_ something from Thrawn. Faint, but unmistakable. 

“Most intriguing,” he said, focusing intently on that subtle nudging of emotions as he gripped Thrawn’s ass again; longer and harder this time, purposely spreading him open. “It seems even you cannot hide _all_ your feelings from me, Admiral.”

Another flare of tangled emotions erupted from the Chiss at his touch, quickly dampened but strong enough this time for Vader to sense them without trouble. Only the barest hint of the intimidated fear he had hoped to inspire with this little charade— but an even mix of roiling anger and humiliation threaded through with a light edge of pain… And with it, a flash of clear, heated arousal. 

Vader considered for a brief moment, experimentally nudging Thrawn’s desire a touch higher. He hadn’t intended to go _through_ with the implied threat, but fear truly seemed to hold little sway over Thrawn. Humiliation, degradation, and an inescapable demonstration of how utterly powerless he could become at Vader’s whim, on the other hand; the knowledge that he was completely helpless against being _taken,_ not even fully in control of his own feelings and desires— now _that_ was much more likely to have a lasting impact on someone like Thrawn. And that thought alone was more than enough to stoke Vader’s own baser desires in return. 

Thrawn’s cheeks burned hotter with a shocked fury as Vader reached down without another word and yanked the fastenings of his white uniform trousers open, hard enough to break them. His clothing was shoved roughly down to the top of his thighs, baring nothing but his backside; and then cold, hard-edged armour dug into his flesh as Vader pressed up against him from behind. 

The pace of Vader’s hollow, mechanical breathing had sped up almost imperceptibly, the grip on Thrawn’s throat relenting once more as Vader shifted to one side behind him. With the invisible hold keeping him from moving at all now, Thrawn glared down at his office floor, unable to so much as turn his head to see what Vader was doing. 

He found out approximately half a second later, when two gloved fingers penetrated him without warning. 

Thrawn clamped down on the cry that tried to burst from his throat, trembling. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as it could have— Vader had lubricated his fingers with something; Thrawn wasn’t certain he even wanted to know with _what,_ exactly— but the sudden intrusion still burned, stinging his pride as much as his flesh. He tried, desperately, to banish the fresh, inexplicable flare of arousal that swirled through him as Vader pulled back and immediately pushed back in again, deeper and harder this time. 

He failed. 

With his cock treacherously thickening where it was trapped down one leg of his uniform trousers, Thrawn had nearly convinced himself that his reaction must be stemming entirely from Vader toying with his emotions when Vader showed him exactly what that _did_ feel like. He couldn’t stifle his gasp this time, shuddering as the low burn of his arousal rocketed higher for no apparent reason, leaving him quivering with sudden need; with a deeply disturbing desire for _more._

Although the pressure on his throat had again eased more than enough for him to talk, Thrawn remained stubbornly silent. He didn’t believe for a moment that Vader had any intention of stopping until he’d taken what he wanted, and Thrawn would _not_ give Vader the satisfaction of hearing him beg.

For anything. And in his current state, he was no longer certain of what, exactly, might leave his lips if he did speak. 

A moment later, the rush of forced emotion abated again, so quickly that Thrawn’s head spun. His now-full erection throbbed insistently against his leg while Vader continued, fingers twisting, sliding, pumping steadily in and out. Vader’s other hand was on Thrawn’s hip, holding him with a bruisingly tight grip; and he abruptly noticed through the haze of burning desire and seething fury that those two hands felt… very, very different. The fingers on his hip were slightly warm through the leather glove, clearly flesh and blood— but the ones inside him were hard, cold. Mechanical. 

Thrawn shivered despite himself. He’d heard all the rumours about just what was under Vader’s black armour and why. The more outlandish claims were easily dismissed, but the common theme, that Vader was more _machine_ than man… The first tendril of true fear curled through Thrawn’s belly as Vader abruptly pulled his fingers out, both hands moving between them in sharp, jerky motions, armour and leather scraping roughly against Thrawn’s bared skin. 

The sharp clatter of a piece of armour dropping to the floor, a rustle of fabric, barely audible under the sound of Vader’s inhuman breathing, and— 

It was almost a relief when Thrawn felt Vader’s cock press against his entrance. Hot and hard, unwelcome; but biological. Mundane. Definitely not the painful, mechanical monstrosity Thrawn had half-concocted in his own mind. 

Almost a relief, but not. 

Vader thrust forward with a grunt, driving himself deep into Thrawn’s tight, slick heat from the very first. He kept himself wide open to the Chiss admiral’s emotions, feeling the impotent fury, the skittering confusion, and the jolts of stubborn pride every single time Thrawn held back a gasp or moan of unwanted pleasure as Vader slammed into him again and again. 

It was time to take that final shred of control away from him, too. 

Reaching out with the Force, Vader once again isolated that deep, simmering lust from the rest of the emotions emanating from the Chiss— but this time didn’t nudge or tug. 

He _wrenched._

Thrawn howled, the sudden, raw cry loud and _bestial;_ the feel of him shuddering uncontrollably within his full-body Force hold transferred to Vader along with the harsh flare of over-stimulated emotion that Vader himself had instigated. Gripping Thrawn’s hips tightly, leaning forward, Vader ruthlessly fucked into him harder still; letting Thrawn’s now-boiling desire drive his own arousal higher along with it until they were feeding into one another, mirrored tension spiralling higher on every deep thrust. 

Thrawn fought desperately not to lose himself completely to the waves of hot, seething pleasure that burned through him as Vader pounded relentlessly into him from behind. His cock throbbing and aching and his thigh slick with his own precome, he was only barely aware of the constant, wordless cries tearing from his throat, gasping and moaning and nearly mindless with the need to _come._ He knew that all he had to do was stop fighting it and he would find release almost immediately; but some small corner of his mind rebelled against the notion, holding onto that last vestige of dignity still left to him— 

And then an invisible touch closed around his cock, squeezing, and Thrawn came instantly, so hard his vision went white.

When he came back to himself a moment later, shaking and nearly sobbing with helpless pleasure, his throat was raw and his cock was still twitching, hot come dripping down his leg and seeping slowly into his clothes. 

Vader waited until he felt Thrawn go limp into his hold, panting, shaking and spent; then released his grip on the Chiss’s emotions entirely. He heard Thrawn’s gasp, felt the disorientation rolling off him through the Force; and then he finally let his own orgasm crash through him, slamming hard into Thrawn one final time. 

His head whirling from the abrupt removal of overwhelming, mindless desire, it took Thrawn a moment to notice Vader had stopped, buried to the hilt inside him— and then he realized Vader hadn’t _stopped,_ he was coming; spilling himself in complete silence save for the rapid, harshly rhythmic breathing. 

Other sensations crowded back into Thrawn’s awareness all at once as Vader’s cock pulsed inside him, filling him with waves of heat. Mis-matched hands gripping his hips painfully hard; the fabric of his uniform sticking to his leg, soaked with his own cooling semen; the bite of armour against the tender, bruised flesh of his ass. He swallowed painfully around the raw, dry burn in his throat, noting vaguely that he appeared to have drooled all over the floor below him; and then Vader abruptly pulled out and released his Force-hold without warning. 

The next thing Thrawn knew, he was sprawled awkwardly on that floor himself with his own puddle of saliva soaking into his uniform tunic and sticky wet heat trickling slowly back out of him. 

Stifling his first, defensive instinct to jump immediately back to his feet, he took a moment to center himself instead, pushing down the roiling tempest of confused emotions still tangled within him as much as possible. He could not let Vader think he had beaten him with this— this brute-force power play clearly meant to break him. Make him cower in fear; make him submit. 

He _would not._

Vader paused as he finished adjusting his armour, watching in slight surprise as Thrawn climbed to his feet and began calmly arranging his white, albeit somewhat stained, uniform back into place. Even with the broken fastenings on his trousers, he still managed to look halfway presentable, reaching up and smoothing his black hair back to complete the picture before turning to regard Vader with his usual respectful mask back in place. 

Even more surprising, and more infuriating than Vader would ever admit, was the fact that Thrawn’s emotions were already closed to him once again. 

“I will not be so lenient a second time,” Vader warned. Red eyes flashed and Thrawn’s posture stiffened slightly; warily. 

“My lord,” was all he answered, however, before lapsing back into waiting silence. 

A brief moment; then Vader turned on his heel and left without another word, satisfied he had finally made an impression on the Chiss. Hopefully, for his sake, it would last. 

Thrawn held his stiff, straight-backed pose until Vader strode out and the door hissed shut behind him; then walked shakily over to his desk and leaned against it for support. Pushing everything else away, he focused only on drawing deep, steady breaths, in and out; until his tenuous, superficial calm ran a little deeper once more. He was not looking forward to dealing with the inevitable emotional trauma he knew would be undoubtedly severe, but for now… 

For now, he was still alive— and while the details were admittedly, thankfully, blurry— he was certain he had managed not to beg. 

For anything. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are moderated for two reasons; first and foremost, I flat out will not publish any comment to the effect of Thrawn deserving what he got or ‘actually wanting it’ as that only perpetuates harmful myths around issues of consent, rape, and abuse. The other reason is that if anyone wants to leave a comment but isn’t comfortable with it appearing publicly, just tag it with #Anon at the end and I won’t approve it to be posted.


End file.
